


500 miles

by meggiewrites



Category: Men's Football RPF
Genre: Drabble Collection, FC Bayern München, German National Team, Inspired by Real Events, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-01
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-04-30 22:25:30
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,725
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14506788
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meggiewrites/pseuds/meggiewrites
Summary: Various Neuller drabbles/oneshots that are too short for their own story!





	1. broken dreams

**Author's Note:**

> So. A while ago I realized that I probably should open a collection especially for those two, considering I write them more often than any other pairing. So unless it is for ask drabbles, all my under- or around-1000 word writings about them will go on here.
> 
> Unbeta'd and often written in the spur of the moment, so I apologize for any mistakes!
> 
> Today: _Bayern lost. Thomas is heartbroken. Inspired by the UCL match on the 1st of May, 2018._

God, it hurt.

Thomas hadn’t accounted how much it’d hurt when he missed his final chance, how much it would clench his stomach, put needles in his heart, a sinking weight into his stomach.

It wasn’t his first big loss, but this was not something you ever got used to.

He ignored everyone on his way to the cabin, didn’t even react when Mats clapped him on the back with a tired, crooked smile. He sat down next to Joshua but had no idea how to comfort him when he felt just as bad himself. 

In all honesty, he was surprised he hadn’t shed a tear yet. But he guessed it was different now, when he was the captain.

The flight back home was torture. They were exhausted, they were angry. Some people lashed out against each others while others got pissed because they wanted to do nothing more than sleep.

Thomas just leaned his head against the window, trying to ignore it all. He hadn’t checked his phone, too tired for seeing all the consolation texts he’d get from friends and family. Sure, they were only trying to help, but right now, it would achieve the opposite effect.

He was glad when he fell asleep and only woke up again when the plane rattled as it touched back down.

None of them said a word as they walked through the deserted airport, as they boarded the bus. By now, everyone just felt beaten down. Sven hadn’t said a word ever since the whistle had blown, Joshua’s eyes were red and bloated from crying.

Thomas hadn’t expected anyone to wait for him. Most of them didn’t, knowing that their wives and partners would expect them at home.

Everyone stopped short when they saw their captain leaning against the wall as they pulled into Säbener, but somehow, Thomas could see in the faces of his teammates that it was a good thing. Manu had always been a rock for them, grounding them in a way that no one else could.

Quietly, he greeted every player with a handshake or a hug as they got out of the bus. When he got to Joshua, he placed a kiss on his hair before letting him go again, and when it was Sven’s turn, he pulled him into a short hug before talking to him quietly, insistently.

His understudy still didn’t say a word, but when they parted again, there was a tiny, almost unrecognizable smile on his lips.

Thomas was the last to get out, having taken his time. The bus driver was just leaving as everyone made their way back to their cars.

“Hey,” he said, hating how unsteady his voice was, how much it wavered.

Manuel didn’t say anything, instead he just stepped up to him, opening his arms. He was a good hugger, always had been, what with his big, long arms and his broad chest, engulfing him in a tight, strong embrace.

He smelled like sleep and like the cold air surrounding them, and Thomas stifled a sob as he buried his face in his chest.

For a few minutes, they simply stood there, entangled in each other, standing so closely that in the shadows of the night, it was probably hard to tell their figures apart. Thomas had started to tremble, but before he could actually start to cry, Manu gently pried him away from his body.

“C’mon,” he rumbled in a low voice, “let’s get you home.”

The car ride was silent, but whenever the gear allowed it, Manuel took Thomas’ hand, squeezing it. The lights of the city thinned out in the occasional flicker of a small suburban town, and then into the empty fields of the countryside. Thomas stubbornly stared ahead, refusing to blink because he knew that if he did, he wouldn’t be able to hold back his tears any longer.

He managed to hold out until Manuel closed the front door behind them. He buried his face in his hands, letting out a sob.

“God, I fucked up. I fucked up so bad.”

“Shhh, shh, babe, no.” Manu’s voice was gentle as he pulled him back into his arms, carding his big hand through Thomas’ hair, the other one caressing his back where he was holding him.

“No really, I …” another series of sobs shook Thomas’ body, wrecking him. “I am their captain! I’m supposed to be there for them and what do I do? Nothing, that’s what! I’m such a failure.”

He hadn’t even noticed how Manuel had walked them over to the couch, but he didn’t have to be asked twice when the blond gently pulled him down with him.

They didn’t spoon often, and when they did, Thomas was usually taking up the role of the big spoon, but at that moment, there was nothing better than laying down on Manu’s comfortable broad chest.

“You are no failure.” He didn’t offer anything more than that, that denying their mistakes would only make everything worse, but still, as he run his hands over Thomas’ shaking shoulders again and again, repeating these three words again and again, somehow, the scrawny forward started to believe them.

When he had calmed down enough, Manuel pushed away enough to look him directly into his eyes.

“I love you, Thomas Müller, don’t you ever forget that. I love every piece of you, every goal, and every loss. I know this might sound strange coming from me of all people” – Thomas snorted quietly. Yeah, Manuel was known for beating himself up after a lost game – “your mistakes don’t define you. Your achievements do. And on my page, getting to the semifinals is already pretty darn good.”

“You’re only saying that cause you didn’t play yourself.”

Manuel’s grin was crooked. “Maybe. But it doesn’t make it any less true.”

Their first kiss was sweet, and Thomas once more marveled at how much he missed it, even if they had only been separated for a bit more than a day.

“C’mon, let’s go upstairs,” he whispered, sniffling, wiping away the last of his tears, but Manuel softly shook his head.

“We can sleep here.”

Since Thomas was too tired to protest, they did. And when he woke up again, the sunrise outside of their window and his beloved’s arms around himself, he didn’t find it in himself to regret it. Even if his neck hurt like a bitch.

 


	2. Ten Minutes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Fabian Müller plays his first game for Bayern Munich. His parents are almost as nervous as him.

Walking into the Allianz Arena for the first time in years felt strange. Not in a bad way, of course, but the wave of nostalgia that washed over Manuel as soon as he walked through the door was so strong it almost swept him off his feet.  
  
He had come alone - even if both the other two members of his small family were in the stadium as well; they were here for their jobs while he himself was only a spectator.   
  
When he found his seat in the VIP area - it was crazy how he manuvered around the hallways, turns and corners almost automatically still, the layout if the stadium burned into his mind after fourteen years for playing for Bayern, even if it had been a long time since he'd waved the fans a final goodbye, his then soon-to-be husband by his side, doing the same - the sharply dressed lady next to him let out a short gasp. Upon her request he glady gave her an autograph, accompanied by a crooked smiled; getting recognized also wasn't something that happened to him as often anymore.   
  
She shot him a confused glance when he pulled out his phone as soon as he'd sat down - he was a bit late and there were mere minutes to the start of the game - opening the Sky app and plugging in his earphones instead of focusing on the actual pitch. He ignored her. A smile found its way too his lips when a familiar voice rang through his eardrums, announcing the lineup.   
  
He was probably the only one who noticed when Thomas' voice stumbled a bit as he listed the players on the bench.   
  
"And number 26, Fabian Müller," a short, almost unrecognizable pause, followed by a tiny smile, "the 18-year old youngster who transferred from St. Pauli this summer, called up to the first team for the first time."   
  
Their boy looked so incredibly young in the image they'd used for him. Granted, he was six to seven years younger than Bayern's average player, but at the same time, Thomas had only been a year older at his own debut. For Manuel, it was hard to believe that it was his little boy down there, the person they had raised and shaped, following their footsteps at such a young age.   
  
They had never urged him to become a football player, that had been Fabi's own decision. And of course, he'd played professional games in Hamburg too - something that everyone only expected from the youth team's record-setting captain - but this was different. This was Bayern, the Rekordmeister, and for Thomas and Manuel as well, this club was home.   
  
Fabi knew that, and even if everyone reassured him that he didn't have to, he wanted to do nothing more than live up to their names, their legacy, their legend.   
  
From were he was seated, Manuel couldn't see the player tunnels, so he focused back on his phone. His heart took a little leap when he spotted Fabian's mop of messy, dark blond curls. He looked nervous, and in that moment, Manu wanted to do nothing more than wrap him in a tight hug.   
  
The first half of the game of the game went by pretty unspectularly. No one scored any goals, but still, somehow, there was no real tension builing. His butt had gone numb by then, and he was glad when, five minutes into halftime, Thomas shot him a text.   
  
_Hey babe, wanna come up?_   
  
Manuel chuckled. Thomas wasn't technically allowed to do that, he knew; but there also wouldn't be anyone complaining as long as they didn't make a habit out of it, especially since they were former teammates. After all, football games, for the likes of them, were all about socialising.   
  
He shot his neighbour an apologizing glance when she had to get up for him to pass through and made the trek up to the official media area.   
  
Thomas expected him in his box with a smirk and a "hey there hot stuff!" The headset he had to put on during the game still dangled around his neck, his eyes small from smiling.   
  
Manuel blushed. It was crazy that even after all those years, with both of them going gray, he still had that effect on him. After quickly peering over his shoulder to check if anyone was watching them, he leant in for a short peck.   
  
The other journalists payed them no attention when Thomas sat down again he patted the seat next to him.   
  
"Do you know if he's gonna come on during the second half?" Manuel asked, curiously.   
When he peered down to the players' tunnel, he could see that Fabian had already made his way out, warming up next to the field.   
  
Thomas nodded slowly. "They've informed me that he's gonna play with the start of the second half." He chuckled, "it's almost a bit funny, how none of my colleagues have any idea that he's my kid. Our kid."   
  
Underneath the table, he took Manuel's hand. They both knew how nervous Fabi had been that morning, so much more anxious than when he'd debuted with St. Pauli'd first team just about a year ago. "What if I fuck it up?" he'd murmured, insecurity dripping from each and any of his pores.   
  
They had reassured him that he wouldn't, but by the deep frowning line between his husband's eyebrows, Manuel could tell that Thomas was just as nervous as he was.   
  
He pulled him close, pressing a single peck on those beloved mousy brown-grey curls. "He'll be fine. He's your son, after all."   
  
Thomas' smile was tight but terribly fond at the same time. "And yours, my dear."   
  
It turned out they'd worried for no reason. Within the first fifteen minutes of coming on, Fabian scored the leading goal - which, considering he was officially a defensive midfielder, not half bad.   
  
A smile broke out on his face as soon as the ball hit the net and as he celebrated, lifting his hand to pat the crest on his chest he raised his other hand in a wave, his eyes searching for where he knew his parents were sitting.   
  
Manuel cheered loudly while Thomas visibly struggled with keeping his commentating neutral, close to failing in stopping the mirth in his voice from spilling over, drenching every single one of his words.   
  
"That's my boy," Manuel whispered as he watched Fabian grin on the big screens; and he looked down at Thomas, he was met with the exact same expression.

 


	3. Katze

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Idk I'm mostly writing these for myself by now .... hope that maybe someone enjoys it anyway! [Inspiration](http://thomasmuellerfcbayern.tumblr.com/post/173450156532/auf-ein-wort-thomas-m%C3%BCller)

Thomas only notices it when his brother gets a cat. When he visits him, the sizable tabby is busy clawing at the the couch. Simon sighs, casting it an exasperated glance.

“It’s not like I don’t like him. He’s lovely. Sweet, cuddly … loves the be spoiled! But also destructive. And he has this weird tendency to just lay on me when I’m not giving him enough attention. Thank god I can always bribe him with food.”

For his little brother, Thomas knows, the cat is a way to distract him from the fact that his long-term girlfriend has broken his heart when she ended things between them. (He doesn’t know the full story there.) But the thing is, Thomas and Lisa’s breakup two years ago was as amiable as it could have been – and he has never had a cat. So he has no idea why he feels a spark of recognition when he listens to his brother ramble about his new housemate.

He wonders about why that only as long until he walks through the door once he comes back home. There’s a weird sense of deja-vu when as soon as he’s closed the door behind him, his boyfriend latches onto him, wrapping his big limbs around Thomas’ body.

“Where ‘ave you been,” Manu murmurs into Thomas’ shoulder, his teeth grazing at his skin. He’s heavy, but over the months, Thomas has gotten used to his boyfriend’s clinginess well enough. At first he’d been startled by how cuddly Manuel was whenever they were by themselves but he quickly started to enjoy – in fact, it had even helped him improve his upper body strength and paying more attention to that in the gym, just so that he could support Manu’s heavy weight with his own without risking an aching back.

He smiles to himself as he hangs up his jacket. “Simon’s, babe. I promised to help him with painting his kitchen, remember?” When Manuel only grunts in reply he adds a “did you miss me?” in a teasing tone.

Manuel hums in approval. He’s followed him to the couch and when Thomas has sat down, spreading out his legs, he flops down on him with a content sigh. Thomas lets out a grunt, but he knows it’s to no avail; once Manu has laid down, there’s no way to throw him off again – because on top of being heavy, he’s also adorably clingy.

Thomas shakes his head softly, letting his fingers brush through Manu’s hair, caressing his neck, his shoulders, his cheeks, rough with stubble. He can feel Manuel smile into his chest.

It’s only ten minutes later, when his legs start to go numb, that Thomas tries to gently pry him off again. “Babe, c’mon. Get off.”

Manu grunts. Thomas chuckles.

“You’re honestly too heavy for me.”

Another very displeased noise.

Thomas sighs. “How about that: I’ll make dinner for us, alright? But even for that you have to let me go first.”

With a groan, finally convinced, Manuel rolls off him. Only to latch back onto his back mere minutes later when Thomas is standing  at the stove, cooking pasta. (He’s the worse cook out of the two, but somehow, since Manu is the one who always complains when he has to cook after a long day at work, it ends up being his job anyway. So pasta with tomato sauce it is.)

They eat in silence, holding hands on the table, and it’s once again Manu who, once they’ve stored their dirty plates in the dishwasher, tugs Thomas back to the sofa. They almost stumble over the side table on their way when he abruptly turns around to pull Thomas into his arms, placing a few needy kisses on his lips. He mewls in contentment when he lays back down, stretching out his long limbs, and Thomas can’t stifle a smile as he lays down next to him.

It had taken them a while to find a couch that could comfortably fit two men who are over six feet tall, but every day Thomas is glad for it. He grins when he heads Manu make a snuffling noise when his hand ends up the goalkeeper’s short blond hair again, petting him.

Thomas freezes as soon as he realizes what the sound reminded him of. “You’re like a cat.”

“Hmm?”

A smile grows on Thomas’ lips, first tentatively, then bigger, wider. “You’re a lazy, big tomcat. You just almost purred!” he adds when Manu squits one eye open, staring up at him in the most judgemental way, but Thomas isn’t about to be stopped how. In fact, this only proves his point.

“Big, needy, loves to be spoiled. Judgy. Destructive, sometimes – don’t even try to deny it, you know how the living room looked after the last time you lashed out. Or how many scratches I had on my back after Tuesday night, for that matter.”

That shuts Manu up effectively, his cheeks flushing in an angry rose colour.

He’s pouting, and Thomas goes back to caressing him with a grin. “You just throw yourself at me me when I don’t give you enough on my attention. And you’re easily bribed with food. Honestly, you’re worse than my brother’s cat!”

That, Manuel doesn’t grace with an answer, instead, he only takes a hold of Thomas’ t-shirt, pulling him back down.

 

But when Thomas, a few days later, is asked in an interview to describe some of his teammates with only one word, he doesn’t have to think about it for a second when it comes to Manu.

“ _Katze_ ,” he answers with a completely straight face, even knowing that his boyfriend would later give him hell for it.

 


	4. Boyfriend Shirt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clothes sharing! Or, what happened when I noticed that Thomas always wears his shirts slightly (or a lot) too big. The one from the [Meisterfeier](http://manuelmueller.tumblr.com/post/173964538075/) seemed especially roomy.
> 
> (Maybe I'll make an actual 5+1 out of this someday. For now, it's just this little thing that I wrote yesterday)

Manuel first noticed it during the Meisterfeier. The party after, not the official presentation.

They had snuck away to have a quiet moment to themselves. It was hot in the club, and Thomas was all beaming smiles and loud laughter.

It was so cleansing to see him like this again, like the Thomas Manuel first fell in love with. He hadn't had the easiest season, and Manu knew the ongoing critique of fans and the media took a toll on him, even if he didn't let it show.

Manu on the other hand hadn't had a season at all. No, he'd just showed up to smile at the crowd and lift the trophy together with partner, his vice-captain and feeling like a fraud all the while. He'd handed it to Thomas, in the stadium, knowing that it was him who had stepped up to lead the team.

Manu just hoped he'd fully recover in time for the World Cup.

Nevertheless, and even if most of their teammates seemed displeased with their season, his smile had been genuine when they'd done it again just minutes ago, had been real and wide and beaming cause on the other side of the plate, there were Thomas' hands gripping onto the cool metal.

And now finally, after hours and hours of crowds and socializing, they had a couple minutes to themselves.

Thomas was leaning against the wall, breathless, his eyes closed.

Manu stood next to him, transfixed, almost intoxicated by the sight of seeing him so blissfully happy.

He reached out, brushing against Thomas' fingers with his own, causing him to squint open an eye.

"Well hello there, beautiful," he said with a smirk.

Manu cursed his pale cheeks as he felt the blood rush to his face. It was almost embarrassing, how strongly he reacted to Thomas' compliments and endearments still.

He didn't complain when the forward pulled him close, flush against his body. His eyes sparkled, and there was something mischievous in them.

Thomas licked over his lips, gripping him closer before spinning them around, pressing Manu against the wall instead. Normally that would have been enough to cloud the taller one's mind, but somehow, he got distracted by the hand with which he had grabbed onto Thomas' shirt.

It was a light blue shirt. Thomas had left the two first buttons open, making him look quite swoon-worthy in Manu's opinion. But there was something about it that seemed off.

He realized what it was when he noticed how much fabric he was holding onto. Surely, Thomas preferred more loose clothing, hiding his quite lanky frame, but he was positively swimming in this one.

Manu tilted his head.

“Is that my shirt?”

Thomas froze, stopping what he’d been doing. Which of course, was fiddling with the buttons of Manu’s shirt and dragging his fingers slowly over his chest while his other hand had a tight grip on Manu’s behind.

He looked down, frowning. “Huh. Yeah, might be, actually. Mine looks the same, but I don’t remember it being that lose.”

It made sense too, considering Manu hadn’t seen that shirt in the while and just assumed housekeeper had lost it in the wash.

Thomas chuckled. “Well, nonetheless …”

With a smirk, he pulled Manu closer once more, resuming what, considering where they were, probably shouldn’t have evolved into as much of a make-out session as it did.

 

The second time it happened was when they were reuniting after their summer holidays. They had parted in an argument, so as soon as Manuel spotted Thomas waiting for him in a secluded part of the airport, he could tell that the younger one was apprehensive by the way he checked his watch every couple seconds and kept tapping his foot.

He knew Thomas felt responsible for their poor performance in Russia, felt unworthy to face Manuel, who had had once of the best performances of their team. And sure, Manu had been angry, but he hadn’t meant to lash out at Thomas like he’d done, not in their own home, when they were no longer captain and player but partners and lovers.

He breathed out in relief when he saw the crooked smile appearing on Thomas’ lips as he spotted him, and couldn’t resist flinging himself into his arms. Of course, Manu was way too heavy for Thomas to twirl around, but he couldn’t help himself.

“Missed you,” he mumbled into Thomas’ shoulder, not able to suppress a smile when Thomas laughed and patted his back.

“I missed you too, you big oaf. Come on, let go.”

But Manu didn’t intend to, he only gripped Thomas a little bit tighter. He smirked when he realized that the fabric underneath his fingers was printed with a familiar pattern.

“You really did, huh?”

Thomas pulled away, looking puzzled. Then, after following Manuel’s eyes, he let out a barking laugh and shrugged unapologetically.

“Yeah, what can I say. Found it laying in my closet, so I thought it’s a better reminder of my beautiful boyfriend than just checking our chat every couple seconds.”

From then on, it happened all the time. Every time when Thomas attended a public event, he showed up in a shirt slightly too big. Sometimes hidden underneath a suit jacket or a hoodie, and sometimes Manu wasn’t even sure if said shirt actually belonged to him, but along the line, he became used to his shirts disappearing from his closet even if he didn’t use them.

“It’s not like you wear button-ups that often,” Thomas had remarked when Manu had pointed it out to him once. “And I like it. It’s like having a piece of you with me all the time.”

And well, when Manu ‘accidentally’ started to steal Thomas’ hoodies whenever he went outside, he had to admit that he felt the same – even if he claimed he only did because they were softer than his own.

 


	5. the voices in my heart

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thomas scores the first goal of the season. What follows is a late-night walk and slow-dancing until the dawn.

There is a sweet taste to the night after a hot day. Thomas takes a deep breath as they step outside, savouring it on his tongue. He doesn’t flinch when he feels someone brushing against his side, instead he extends his hand, smiling when he feels Manuel’s fingers in between his own.

The colours have already drained out of everything, but Manu’s eyes shine an almost unnaturally bright in the tinted light of the moon hanging ik the sky. He’s smiling, and something tugs at Thomas’ stomach. He can’t help but grin back, giving his hand a little squeeze.

It’s not often they hold hands outside of the security of their own home, not often that they can without fearing the consequences, and Thomas basks in the surge of recklessness seeping through his bones.

His smile grows more tender when he looks at Manu again. Even if most people would probably claim Manuel is most in his element when he’s on the pitch, in his box, in front of his goal, but Thomas knows better.

He might have been born a city boy, but Manu is at home in nature. Surrounded by high trees, with the smell of the lake in the air, he’s most at peace. Here he looks blissful. Beautiful. He’s clearly still happy about tonight’s win, and Thomas remembers seeing that same look on his face a few hours earlier, his eyes twinkling as he rushed to embrace him after the game.

It has been Thomas’ idea, going for a walk. For hours, they were laying in bed, side by side. both of them unable to sleep thanks to the adrenalin and endrophines still running through their veins, staring at the ceiling. Every couple minute, Manu had turned his head, placing a kiss on Thomas’ lips, before the younger one decided this was no good.

Manu grumbled, but in the end, it didn’t take much convincing.

Now, it only takes a little tug at his hand until Manu follows his steps and they start their way down to the shore. He doesn’t let go of Thomas’ hand, and for once, it feels like they are a couple like any other.

As they get closer to the shore, Thomas hears a soft melody heading towards them. Some people have lit up a campfire, talking quietly, laughing. The stand around it, blocking most of the light, but there are a couple of fairy lights strung into the trees.

Manu and Thomas aren’t close enough to get noticed, not with the dark of the night embracing them as it is, but just as Thomas is able to slip out of his shoes and dip his toes into the water, the song changes to a slow, romantic ballad.

Suddenly, Thomas has an idea. He turns around and places his hands on Manu’s hips with a practiced ease, pulling him close before resting their foreheads together.

Manu doesn’t hesitate to drape his arms over Thomas’ shoulders in return. It’s him who starts softly swaying his hips, pulling Thomas along as the music goes on.

He smiles, and Thomas loves him. 

He leans in, and the kiss is gentle.

Manu sighs as he opens his lips. His skin is warm underneath his shirt, and he shivers under Thomas’ caresses.They spin around, losing themselves in the music; but they never losing sight of each other.

It’s hard to tell how long they dance along the shore, but by the time they start heading back home, dawn is tugging at the horizon. As they fall into their bed, they’re intoxicated from each other, drunk on the lack of sleep. And as soon as their heads hit the pillow and Thomas wraps his arms around Manu’s waist, pulling him close, they fall into a deep, dreamless slumber.

 

**Author's Note:**

> I write FICTION about real people. None of this is intended to harm them or their reputation in any way | Please leave kudos and maybe a comment if you liked it! | [tumblr](http://meggiesobsessions.tumblr.com/)


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